


Dancing in the Rain

by LycanCoffee



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, Short & Sweet, Slow Dancing, The Homestuck Epilogues: Candy, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:21:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23596009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LycanCoffee/pseuds/LycanCoffee
Summary: Just some good good boys dancing during a civil war.
Relationships: Dave Strider/Karkat Vantas
Comments: 10
Kudos: 40





	Dancing in the Rain

**Author's Note:**

> Quarantine is fucking me up just take these boys being happy despite the circumstances ok bitch????????

The sky is an ashy, fire red. Dark clouds are gathering, more gunpowder than water.

“Oh, great. The fucking, _thing_ , won’t work,” Karkat says, slamming his fist into the radio. He growls, and kicks it so hard it dents. They’re surrounded by the wreckage of a small aircraft, shards of grey metal and oozing troll tech and a deep, chalky scratch in the red clay earth. Half crumpled tin can, half squashed bug. It’s dusty. Sparks rain and drift in the thick air.

“We’re stuck here until someone bothers to find us.” He turns to look at his companion. “You good, Dave?” He scowls. “Hey, what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Dave hums. His fluffy blond hair falls in his eyes, shielded by his ironic glasses. He’s fiddling with a whole-ass record player, the kind with the trumpet on top. There’s a gash in the machinery next to it bleeding toxic orange sludge. “Check it, did you know this was on the craft the whole time?” He fits a record onto the plate, and chirps when it begins to spin. “It still works!” 

Karkat’s brows knit together. “Really, Strider? Isn’t there better shit to worry yourself with right now? Like our fucking impending doom?” 

He drops the needle, and a soft voice blooms from the golden flower decorating its top. 

Snap. Snap. Snap. He nods to the beat, smiling to himself. He spins on his heel and flashes a winning smile. “Karkles.”

“NO,” he shrieks, “ABSOLUTELY the fuck NOT.” But Dave drifts toward him with his hands outstretched. 

‘Put your head on my shoulder~’ the record croons. 

Karkat steps back, but not far enough. Dave catches him easily, hands on the small of his back and the crook of his shoulder.

‘Squeeze me oh-so-tight’

Dave sings along lightly as he pulls them along into a waltz. Karkat grumbles, face contorted in disgust. 

‘Baby-”

They stir up clouds of dust with every move. Dave dips him, pressing their cheeks together. 

“This is stupid,” he says, as Dave pulls back up.

“Sure.”

Even now, tough and scarred, with sharper, harder faces (and a new lack in depth perception on Karkat’s part), it’s as gentle as when they were just teenagers. They dance like innocent kids at a school event. Despite the onslaught of burning shrapnel and the clouds gathering overhead, their natural rhythm, in sync as always, falls into its own clumsy elegance.

Dave laughs, his voice warm and breathy. Karkat feels warmth rush to his face. Their eyes lock together and suddenly they are teenagers again. The burning sky is painted pink and cotton-soft.

Karkat smiles, and it's everything Dave ever wanted.

**Author's Note:**

> Uh drink some water, stretch, take ur meds.   
> Fuck man. I'm tired. 
> 
> Tell me your favorite homestuck character in the comments and Please elaborate. Go ham man.


End file.
